


The Destiel Dictionary

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Barista!Dean, College AU, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Shmoop, Slice of Life, coffee shop AU, dean/cas - Freeform, established Destiel, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:03:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5619580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Destiel fic based on David Levithan’s <i>The Lover’s Dictionary</i>. Snippets of Dean and Cas’s relationship in the form of drabbles. May or may not be plotless. Fluff. Shmoop. College AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Destiel Dictionary

**Author's Note:**

> **This was originally published on January 4, 2014 under my old username.**
> 
> **Warnings:** Not beta'd, OOCness, inconsistent tenses, English is not my first language  
>  **Disclaimer:** No copyright infringement intended.  
>  **A/N:** This is some sort of timestamp collection, so the fic progresses without a fixed time; it jumps from here and there. Events in the past are indicated with a ‘(p)’ in an attempt to avoid confusion. Also, I would like to thank the CTRL + R function of WordWeb for the extra help.  
>  **Dedication:** This is for my Destiel family over _Destiel Forever_ on Facebook. Thank you for making everything fun and bearable. I initially published this on 2014, and while I am not part of the SPN fandom anymore, the folks over Destiel Forever made my stay in the fandom so worthwhile.

**abacinate** _v_.

True to his namesake, Castiel loved Thursdays. He was, after all, named after the Angel of Thursday. At first, he didn’t deem it necessary to like Thursdays, but now, the fourth day of the week is the one day he never wishes to end.

His break from 12pm to 3pm always allowed him to laze around The Roadhouse, a well-known establishment in their university, and a favourite of many students. It’s a café by day, and bar by night, and the interior and furniture are an odd cross between a coffee shop and a bar.

On busy days where a lot of studying needs to be done, he’ll sit at his favourite spot in the secluded part of the establishment, but on days like this one, where doesn’t have any pressing issues to deal with in his four-hour break, he’ll sit at the table nearest the counter and stare at his favourite barista.

It may or may not be a coincidence that his break coincided with his favourite barista’s shift.

He lines up at the short queue, and in a matter of minutes, he’s staring at his most favourite person in the world. Warmth spreads all over his bodies and makes his toes curl and heart aflutter as he looks at the freckled, green-eyed man in front of him. He can stare at him for hours—and he did that, a couple of times now—and he’ll never get tired. He never gets tired of staring at Dean and seeing that grin on his face whenever he’s happy.

“Hello,” he greets Dean with a shy smile.

“Hello yourself,” Dean says.

Castiel glances at the menu and tilts his head in pretence of thinking what to buy. He hears Dean chuckle.

Dean plays along. “What can I get for you today, sir?”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “I don’t know. What can you recommend?”

“Cafe latte, sir.”

“Hm. Is that your bestseller?”

“Cappuccino is our bestseller, but my boyfriend’s crazy over cafe latte. I think he loves it more than me.”

“You have a boyfriend?”

“Yes, sir. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

Somewhere over the counter, they both hear Charlie say, “Stop flirting, you two!”

They laugh, and Dean says, “So, cafe latte is it, then?”

“Yes. Make it large.”

“Okay. What’s your name?”

“Cas. With a single S.”

“Okay Cas. Please wait for your order in a few minutes.”

Castiel pays for the coffee and sits at his favourite spot. He watches Dean fleet around the counter as he makes his order. A few minutes later, Charlie shouts, “One large cafe latte for Cas!”

He walks to the counter. Dean is getting the order of another customer, and he smiles when he sees his order—large cafe latte placed on a tray, along with a plate of chocolate chip cookies. Charlie loves giving him free cookies.

“Thank you, Charlie,” he says, “I hope my free cookies do not have any deduction in your paycheck.”

“Nah,” Charlie says, “Ellen loves you.”

He takes the tray back to his table, and smile widens as he sees his cup.

There, written in a black sharpie, was his name. With an ‘ilu’ and a heart.

He glances at the counter and sees Dean looking at him with the same wide smile so blinding he might have ate the sun.

He mouths, ‘I love you too’, and gets a wink in return.

.

.

 **bendable** _adj_.

Dean and Cas are roommates. Of course they’re roommates. Once they realised that they’re so in love with each other to the point where people around them wanna puke, they started sharing a room.

Which is why Gabriel was puzzled when he dropped by unannounced to Dean and Cas’s room, and the former wasn’t there. (The perks of making a copy of your younger brother’s room keys. Ha!)

“Why aren’t you snuggled up with Dean-o?” he asks as he enters the living room. It was Sunday. Dean doesn’t work on Sundays, and it’s 7pm, the time where his brother and his boyfriend are snuggling on the sofa while doing their weekly marathon. They may or may not be paying attention to the movie in various forms of distraction.

Cas was sitting on the floor, coffee table in front him a mountain of papers strewn haphazardly over each other. A steaming mug of coffee of sat at the edge of table, tittering over a lifetime of serving its purpose and falling onto the ground of non-existence. Gabriel moves the mug into a safer place as he slumps opposite his brother.

“He’s at the garage,” Cas answers as he scribbles something in his notebook, “Some ‘idiotic douchewad driver’ left a dent on his car.” At this point, Gabriel’s impromptu visits have become a normal occurrence that Cas stopped reacting.

Gabriel smirked. “That guy and his fixation towards his car. You not jealous?”

Cas’s eyes never left his notes. “We usually have sex in the backseat. Why would I be jealous?”

“Oh,” his brother said, “Just exactly how bendy are the two of you?”

“Bendy enough to have sex in either the backseat or front seat. Don’t drink my coffee, Gabe,” Cas replies, and he snatches his mug back from Gabe’s clutches.

~~~

Later, when Dean comes home with his Baby fixed, they have celebratory sex on the Impala’s hood, not giving a flying fuck about exhibitionism or something.

.

.

 **clop** _n._

It’s another one of those nights again when they were having sex so good the headboard repeatedly thuds against the wall. With each thrust Cas sends the headboard colliding against the walls, all in sync with Dean’s moans and incoherent ramblings. Both their throats are hoarse from the loud noises coming out of their mouths.

Cas continues to thrust, Dean continues to moan, and the occupants in the room next to them continues to throw basketballs on the wall separating them.

“I’ll fucking kill Benny and Victor,” Dean cries between moans.

.

.

 **disappointment** _n._ (p)

“It’s okay, Dean,” Sam says after swallowing a mouthful of ‘rabbit food’ which makes Dean grimace.

“I’m okay, Sam,” Dean says after swallowing a mouthful of burger which makes Sam grimace.

“Seriously, Dean—”

“I didn’t invite you to lunch to talk about my fucking feelings.”

“And I didn’t agree to have lunch with you to watch you mope about your schoolgirl crush kissing someone.”

Dean glared at him.

 Castiel is a frequent customer at The Roadhouse. They have mutual friends and acquaintances like Garth, Kevin, Jo, and Castiel’s cousins Anna and Balthazar. Ellen adores him. He usually comes during morning and orders Cafe latte, and Ellen or Jo would sometimes slip a free cookie or pastry or even a slice of pie.

Because of their mutual friends, they have become acquaintances, and it is also because of their mutual friends that he knew the name of the girl— _bitch, yeah, definitely a bitch_ —who came in with Castiel one Friday afternoon.

Castiel just got his order and walked back to the table he shared with Meg. Upon sitting down, Meg grabbed him, and gave him a lengthy kiss.

And that was how he found himself eating lunch at Biggerson’s with his brother on a Saturday afternoon.

“You’re not even sure that this Meg girl is Cas’s girlfriend,” Sam says. He met Castiel before, when he ‘visited’ Dean during his shift, and they were introduced to each other because of Jo.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, “They kissed.”

Sam huffs. “See? You’re totally moping. Oh, hey Cas!”

He whips his head to the direction where his brother turned, and there, indeed, was Castiel, carrying a bag. He presumes that it contains burgers since Castiel loves burgers. Don’t ask how he knew about it.

Castiel walks up to them and greets them with a smile. _Stop smiling you fucker._

“Good afternoon, Sam, Dean,” he greets with that smile, and god, _I might lose it here._

Sam greets back, and Dean sends him a constipated smile. He knew that it was his ‘constipated smile’ because Sam is giving him _that_ look.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” he asks. _Foot and mouth, Dean! Excellent job!_

“Girlfriend?” Castiel asks with his head canted at one side. _I’m fucking losing it._

“Meg. That was some damn kiss back there,” he says with feigned amusement.

Sam scowls at him.

“Oh,” Castiel says, “You saw that?”

“You weren’t alone with her at The Roadhouse, Cas. There were the crew and customers.”

Castiel’s cheeks redden. _Fuck._  His eyes dart everywhere as he answers, “Meg isn’t my girlfriend. She just kissed me out of the blue. She does that to a lot of people.”

Dean stares at him, dumbfounded. He looks at Sam, who just shrugs. After getting over his initial shock, he says, “Couldn’t blame her,” he says, “You’re totally a catch.”

_Foot, mouth, Dean Winchester!_

Sam smirks. Castiel stares at him like he has literally put a foot in his mouth.

But at least Meg wasn’t Castiel’s girlfriend.

.

.

 **epithet** _n._

It is an unknown fact, but Dean loves to cuddle. Especially during mornings where they’re both naked and only the comforter and their body heat warms them up. Dean has his arms wrapped around Cas’s waist, his face buried in his boyfriend’s neck. He nuzzles Cas’s neck, leaving ghosts of kisses every time his lips come into contact with the other’s skin.

Cas stirs in sleep, and his eyes slowly open. Green meets blue, and Dean leans in to kiss Cas. _Screw morning breath._ _Cas_ wraps his arms around Dean’s neck, pulls him closer, and their lips meet for a lazy dance.

“Morning, babe,” Dean says, touching their foreheads together, his mouth only a few inches away from Cas’s.

“Good morning to you too, Dean,” Cas says softly.

“What, no ‘babe’? I’m hurt. Babe.”

Cas chuckles. “Good morning to you too. Babe.”

Dean grins and leans again for a kiss.  “I love you baby.”

“It’s ‘baby’ now?”

“I’ll call you whatever I feel like, Munchkin.”

“That’s embarrassing, Cupcake.”

Dean kisses Cas’s nose, which crinkles with the contact.

“I love you too, baby,” Cas says.

.

.

 **finagle** _v._

Every Tuesday, Cas has 8am classes, while Dean’s don’t start until 10am. It’s 7:51am, and Cas headed out fifteen minutes ago. Thank god their dorm isn’t that far away from the uni.

His phone beeps, and he reads a message from Charlie which reminds him of the LARP Club meeting at 8.

 _Crap_. He totally forgot about that. Charlie has been nagging him to join them even for just one activity, and he gave in. And they have a meeting at 8.

He quickly dressed, grabbing whatever his hands can find. He opts to wear a hoodie because it’s getting colder, grabs his bag and phone, hastily wears his shoes, and runs.

On his way to the clubroom, he spots a tuft of messy dark hair and his blue hoodie.

_Cas._

He runs faster, and only stops when he’s just a foot away from Cas. He was wearing earphones, right hand holding a cup of coffee (a large café latte from The Roadhouse), so he didn’t notice Dean.

When he was close enough, he wraps his arms around Cas’s waist, effectively hugging him from behind, and tucks his chin on his shoulder. Cas stops walking and cranes his neck towards him.

“Dean?” he says, surprised, and he removes his earphones.

“Hey babe,” Dean says, and places a kiss on Cas’s cheek. He releases him, goes to Cas’s left, takes his left hand, and entwines their fingers.

They start walking, and Cas says, “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”

“LARP Club meeting. Charlie asked me to join them in an activity. Totally forgot about it,” he replies.

He squeezes Cas’s hand, and Cas squeezes back. He kisses him, in the middle of path, amongst hundreds of students walking to and fro. Cas was surprised at first, but he kisses him back. It was a brief kiss, considering the public place.

“Love you babe,” Dean whispers.

Cas looks at him and flashes that smile he only sees during lazy mornings. “Love you too.”

Dean smiles back, extends his arm, and snatches the coffee away from Cas’s hand.

“Hey!” Cas says, “That’s mine!”

Dean sticks his tongue out and takes good, long drink. He gives the cup back to Cas. It was empty.

“Assbut,” Cas says with a scowl, “That was cheating.”

Dean kisses the frown away from Cas’s face.

.

.

 **gormandise** _v._

Cas opened the door to their room, and found Dean watching Dr Sexy. He was watching so intently that he hadn’t heard the door open, hadn’t heard Cas approaching him, hadn’t heard Cas setting his things down. Dean only noticed him when he covered Dean’s eyes with his hands.

“Hey,” Dean said when Cas uncovered his eyes. He turned his head towards him, giving him a quick kiss, “Didn’t hear you coming.”

“You’re watching Dr Sexy. You stop noticing things when you’re watching it,” Cas says.

“Aw, is my baby jealous?” Dean asked teasingly.

“Yes, I am very jealous,” Cas said sarcastically.

“Come here,” Dean said, patting the space beside him.

“Wait,” he replied, “I’ll go prepare the cake.”

“Cake?” the other asked.

“Anna gave me a box of cake,” he said. He went to the kitchen and sliced the cake. He came back to the living room with two pieces of fork, plate, and beer.

Once he sat down, Dean tugged him closer, his arm resting on his right hip.

“Cake is not pie,” Dean muttered.

“Try it,” Cas said. He held a fork with a portion of the cake in front of Dean. Dean looked at him, and ate the cake.

“Not pie,” he muttered while munching.

~~

Dean has his own plate, fork, and cake. He also says his commentaries about Dr Sexy out loud.

“She’s just playing around with you, Doctor!” _Munch_.

~~

“She’s not the right one for you!” _Munch_.

~~

“For fuck’s sake, just leave her!” _Munch_.

~~

“Finally!” _Munch_.

~~

“Seriously? You’re getting back together?” _Munch_.

~~

“No Cas, I wasn’t quoting Taylor Swift.” _Munch_.

~~

“Still not pie, Dean?” Cas asked, “You ate half the cake. I only had two slices.”

“Shut up.”

.

.

 **hangover** _n._

Last night, Dean got together at The Roadhouse with his brother and friends. It was Kevin’s 21st birthday, and they were celebrating his first legal drink. Cas refused to go because he’s finishing a paper, and was still up at 2:36am, the time when Dean got home.

Dean was slurring and walking aimlessly, and Cas guided him to their bedroom. Dean immediately passed out when he hit the bed, and Cas removed his shoes and socks and dressed him in sweatpants and shirt. He placed Tylenol and a glass of water at the bedside table, and kissed Dean’s forehead goodnight.

~~

When Dean woke up the next morning, he was immediately greeted by the feeling of an axe cleaving his head in two. Of course, there wasn’t a real axe, but there might as well have, if his heavy head and award-winning migraine were anything to go by. He groaned and tried to go back to sleep, but his headache felt like two leaden hands were pounding repeatedly onto his cranium. He sat up, squinted at his surroundings, and saw the water and tablet at the table.

If he could, he would smile at the thought of Cas placing them there, but then again, the throbbing pain in his head made him act otherwise. Instead, he grimaced, and reached for the tablet and washed it down with the water. He slumped back to the bed, willing the pain to go away, but he felt something rise up in his throat. He scrambled to the bathroom and heaved and heaved until there was no more. He felt hands on his shoulders, and gulped down the glass of water being offered to him.

“Here’s another Tylenol,” Cas said, “I figured that you threw the first one up.”

Dean wordlessly grabbed the pill and washed it down with water. Again. He heard the toilet flush, and Cas was hauling him off the floor.

“I made you a really greasy breakfast that will give Sam a heart attack just from the mere sight of it,” Cas said, “Can you walk?”

“’M fine,” Dean mumbled.

When they reached the kitchen, he immediately sat down on the chair and placed his head on the table, ignoring the food in front of him.

“You have to eat,” Cas said. He dragged his chair and placed it beside him. He framed Dean’s face with his hands and said amusingly, “You look like shit.”

Dean dropped his head onto Cas’s shoulder, while the latter, played with his hair.

“Do you want me to feed you?” Cas asked.

“Not a kid, babe,” he replied against his shoulder.

Cas snickered, and kissed the top of Dean’s head. He told him in a low voice, “How about a blowjob when you get better?”

Dean removed his head from its previous place and tried to eat.

.

.

 **ice** _n._

There were already three inches of snow on the ground, and snow was still falling from the sky. They can hear the soft crunch of the ground with each step they took, leaving three-inch deep footsteps behind, only to be covered in snow gradually.

Scarves were woven around their necks, and with each breath they took, wisps of air flowed out of their mouths. They were holding each other’s gloved hands, nary a space between them as they subconsciously shared body heat.

Dean glanced at Cas, and chuckled when he saw that his scarf was covering his mouth. He lowered the scarf and pressed their lips together, and let them stay just pressed against each other. Slowly, they moved away, and Dean brushed a gloved thumb against Cas’s cheek. He kissed cupped his face with both hands, kissed his nose, forehead, and lips again, before placing the scarf once more over Cas’s mouth. Cas disentangled their fingers and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean wound his arms around Cas’s waist. Cas tiptoed slightly, and kissed him.

They heard a camera click, and spun towards the sound’s direction.

“Jess?” Dean said, surprised to see his brother’s girlfriend pop out of the blue.

“You two are so adorable, you know?” she said.

Dean’s cheeks were rosy due to the cold, or maybe it’s because he realised what Jessica can do with the photo. He released his hold on Cas and jabbed a finger towards Jessica’s direction while saying, “If you show that to Sam, I could only predict that you two will live a miserable future.”

Jess chuckled. “Looking forward to it.”

“Jess!”

.

.

 **jampack** _v._

They were all watching a game, and thanks to Garth’s ‘connections,’ they secured a number of seats with a fairly good view. Everyone in their ‘crowd’ was there— Sam, Jess, Charlie, Garth, Jo, Ash, Benny, Victor, and Kevin. It was halftime, and they were talking animatedly about the game’s proceedings so far. Dean was arguing something with Sam (who was sitting on his right) and felt something prod his shoulder. He looked to his left, and saw Cas staring at him. He saw all their friends staring at him. He scrunched his eyebrows, wondering what the hell is happening, when he saw that the Jumbotron displayed his and Cas’s faces.

 _They were on kisscam_.

He was apprehensive, but Cas was looking at him, and everyone was looking at them, so he leaned forward and kissed Cas. He felt Cas smile against the kiss, and they heard boos amidst the cheers. _Fucking homophobic pricks_. He raised a middle finger in the air, and the crowd cheered more as he kissed Cas harder. They broke apart, and Cas smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“I love you,” he heard him whisper.

But apparently, their friends heard, too, so they all muttered their gooey _daaaaaww’s_. And apparently, the audience was able to decipher what Cas mouthing through the big screen. Now Everyone was gushing. Sam was jabbing his ribs and leering, and some of their friends are sniggering.

“I love you too, babe,” he said, and gave Cas a quick kiss.

_Daaaaaaaaawwww._

.

.

 **kerfuffle** _n._

It was loud and raucous and people keep on bumping him without apologising. The lights were flashy and might even trigger seizure attacks, and it was really noisy, _really, really noisy_ that he winces every time he hears some shrill laughter or deafening guffaw.

But Cas is enjoying the carnival, and really, what he wouldn’t give to see Cas smile like that.

“You want some?” Cas asks him, holding out his blue candy floss.

Dean shakes his head. He wants to leave, but Cas wants to try out the shooting game and get that humongous burger pillow.

So he takes Cas’s hand and they walk towards the shooting range. He steps on a gum, a kid bumps into him, he nearly got dowsed with that catch-a-goldfish-using-paper game, then Cas took the lead and walked towards the shooting game with his eyes firmly set on the burger pillow.

Cas tosses the stick from his finished candy floss away, pays for the game (three shots), and takes his aim.

His first shot misses.

His second shot misses his intended target, but hits another instead. He gets a sock monkey hat for it.

The third shot misses, and Cas scowls.

“I wanted that pillow,” he mutters.

“Well, you got a sock monkey hat instead,” Dean says, and he puts the hat on top of Cas’s head. He kisses his forehead, and somewhere in his periphery vision, he sees the guy in the stall give them a dirty look.

“You sure you still want that pillow? He doesn’t seem to like us,” Dean says.

Cas looks at the guy, who immediately looks away from them. “I think I want some caramelised apples.”

“Okay.”

So Dean holds his hand once more, and they go to the nearest stall which sells caramelised apples, only to see Sam and Jess. Sam was arguing with the stall owner, and Jess was practically doubling over from laughter.

“Sam? Jess?” Dean says.

Jess was still heaving from laughter, and Sam glances in their direction, wearing the mother of all bitchfaces.

“Hey Cas,” Sam says, “Do you mind knocking some sense into your brother?”

“My brother?” Cas asks, visibly surprised. He looks at the caramelised apple stand and sees Gabriel’s grinning face.

“Hey bro!” Gabe greets them, “I was just telling Sam here about the creative ways you can use apples to—”

“Shut up, Gabriel,” Sam says, “And Jess, you’re not helping.”

“He said shut up to me,” Gabe mutters.

“Gabriel, what exactly are you doing?” Cas asks.

“Operating a caramelised apple stand. Isn’t that obvious? By the way, Dean-o, I know that my brother has a thing for caramelised apples, so give me your money so your boyfriend can enjoy one.”

“ _Why_ are you operating a caramelised apple stand?” Dean asked.

“I just want to,” Gabe answers.

Cas gives Gabriel a withering stare.

Sam turns to his brother. “Anyway, why are you two here? I thought you hated carnivals.”

“Cas wants to be here,” Dean says softly.

Sam smirks.

“What?”

~~

Later, when they are at the car park and are preparing to leave, Cas embraces Dean tightly.

“Babe?” Dean says.

“Thank you,” Cas mumbles against his cheek.

Dean hugs him back, and kisses the crown of his head. “Anything for you.”

.

.

 **lift** _n._ (p)

Dean can’t believe how things turned out.

He has classes at 2:30pm, but he overslept, and woke up at 2:21pm. He rushed to the uni—and really, thank god that his dorm wasn’t that far away.

The lifts are psychic. Dean knows this. Every time you’re in a hurry, and the lift is your only chance of being punctual, it takes it so long to get to your floor. He thinks that the lifts are doing it on purpose. This time won’t be different. He was prepared to go Flash and take the stairs but he saw Castiel waiting for the elevator. He glanced at the stairs and the elevator. He glanced at his watch. He glanced at Castiel. He was the only one waiting for the elevator.

He was walking towards Castiel.

He was standing beside him.

Castiel noticed him. He greeted him.

He croaked his greeting.

He glanced at his watch.

He is going to be sooooooooo late.

The lift dinged, and they boarded.

Castiel pressed 5, then turned to him to ask which floor will he get off on.

He said 5.

It was actually the sixth floor.

But Cas was beaming at him.

And asking him if would like to go for coffee sometime.

_He’s asking him for coffee._

_IS THAT A DATE?_

_Nope, that’s not a date._

He was nodding.

He was going on a coffee date— _not a date!_ —with Castiel.

God, since when did he regress into a pubescent kid crushing on someone? And why can’t he answer coherently? All he’s doing are grunting and gesturing, and he’s really thankful to any supernatural creature more powerful that man for making Castiel understand his clipped answers.

Castiel asks if he’s okay.

He must have looked constipated.

Then he realised that he and his ‘schoolgirl crush’ ( _“Shut up, Sammy!”_ ) are alone in a narrow space, and he can inch closer just to feel the other radiating heat—

_Ding!_

“Dean?” Castiel said, “It’s our floor.”

He doesn’t know what kind of answer he said, but he’s out of the lift and walking side by side with Castiel on the fifth floor.

“This is my room,” he says, “I’ll see you.”

He nods, and walks towards the stairs. He looks at his watch, _and he’s so damn late._

.

.

 **mellifluous** _adj._

Dean has a perfect music taste. Jo does not.

There was a lull in the customers at The Roadhouse, so they got out a guitar from the backroom and started to jam. Jo kept on playing modern pop songs and Charlie sang along, which made things much worse.

Then Jo played one song which he really hates. It kind of reminds him of Cas, but he still hates it. It’s not helping that his brother was there because it’s his fucking free time and oh Jess was also there which means it’s four against one. Sam and Jess don’t know the song Jo and Charlie are singing, but they seem to enjoy it, and they look at one another once in a while during certain points in the song.

Okay. The song has nice lyrics. But it’s a cheesy-as-fuck love song and it plays nonstop on his mind, even after they played other songs, even after his shift ended, even after he reached his dorm and he’s waiting for Cas.

~~

He keeps his guitar hidden under the bed. It’s not something that he uses frequently, but it certainly comes in handy, like this moment.

Oh god, where did that thought come from?

He is so _not_ doing _that_.

~~

The week after, Dean and Cas were cuddling on the bed— _don’t fucking tell anyone about that_. Cas’s head was on his chest and he was playing with Cas’s hair as they tell stupid stories when suddenly, the lights died.

_Freaking power outage._

They lit their emergency lights, ordered Chinese, played monopoly, fought because of monopoly, had make-up make-out because of monopoly, and are now bored because of monopoly because they kept the board game away because they will surely fight again if they play another round. It’s not even another round. They didn’t even finish the first round.

They went back to cuddling— _again, don’t tell anyone_ —and then there was a lull in their conversation and it’s just the sound of their evened breaths and beating hearts. And Cas’s humming. Cas was a humming a song. And if he’s not mistaken, it’s _that_ fucking song.

No, he didn’t look it up on YouTube.

He most certainly did not.

He asks Cas where did he learn that song, and he says, ‘Jo and Charlie’, and he keeps on wondering because he can’t remember the two of them playing that song when Cas was around.

Amidst the faint glow of the emergency lights, Cas sees Dean’s knitted eyebrows, and he kisses them away.

“Can I play a song from my phone?” Cas asks after a while.

“Okay,” he says.

Then he can hear the song’s intro. _That_ song’s intro. Then the vocalist sings. God, he hates the vocals. It sounds so fucking girly.

“Can you turn that off?” he asks irritatingly.

“Why?” Cas asks.

“Just turn that off. I can’t stand the vocalist’s voice.”

“I think that Kellin’s voice is perfectly fine.”

“So you’re now on a first-name basis with the vocalist? When did you become BFFs?”

“Dean—”

“Turn that off, will ya?”

“Dean?” Cas asks when he sees Dean getting something from under the bed.

He takes the guitar out of the case and tunes it.

“Turn that off,” he says, and Cas stops the music, though he still has that questioning look on his face.

Dean begins to play the guitar, and looks him in the eye every now and then.

Cas widens his eyes when realises what song Dean was playing.

 _That_ song.

_There’s so many things that I could say_

_But I’m sure it will come out all wrong_

_You’ve got something that I can’t explain_

_Still I try and try and let you know_

Fuck, this song is girly as shit, but he sees Cas _beaming_ , his smile threatening to crack his face in half, and even if the emergency lights are dim as fuck, he can see the crinkles ‘round Cas’s eyes, and his blue eyes were fucking _twinkling_.

And that’s all he needs to finish the song.

 _You still have all of my heart_.

When the song ended, he puts away his guitar, and Cas _leaps_ onto him, kissing him hard and hungry and all lips and tongue.

They break away, and laugh softly.

“Didn’t know you were such a fan of that band,” Dean teases.

“Am not,” Cas says, “I just like that song. And that other song.”

“What other song?”

“I forgot the title, but it says that _your forever is all that I need_.”

“Man, you’re such a fan.”

“Am not. Anna listens to them.”

“Even her?”

“Even her. How did you know that song, anyway?”

“Same as you. Jo and Charlie.”

“Hm.”

“What ‘hm’?”

Cas kisses him. “You should do that more often.”

“What?”

“Serenade me.”

Dean smiles, sits up, and retrieves the guitar from under the bed.

_Hey Jude…_

.

.

 **nought** _n._

He trudges up the path leading to the cafe. He avoids the puddles with murky water, but rings form around where his boots step on the soaked pavement. His umbrella keeps swaying with his motion, causing a few stray droplets to land onto his arms. His trench coat develops dark spots where the wayward droplets hit. He berates himself for not bringing a bigger umbrella.

He folds his umbrella and puts it in the rack. The guard smiles at him and opens the door, and he nods back in return. The warm and cosy interior of the cafe is a welcome change from the coldness and wetness outside. He’s shivering, and The Roadhouse is still a few blocks away, but this café will do. He hugs his trench coat tighter as he situates himself in the queue. He thinks of what to get. He's very fond of café latte, and whether Dean admits it or not, he actually likes the caramel macchiato.

He smiles when Dean's face surfaces in his mind. The image of Dean with his crooked grin, wrinkles around his eyes, and light illuminating his irises is forever etched on his mind. He hears his gruff laugh and feels Dean's hands ghosting over his, calloused and firm and warm.

He tightens the scarf wrapped around his neck. It's a nondescript green woollen scarf that belonged to Dean. It smells faintly of grease and oil and and apple pie and peppermint. It smells like Dean, and the smell and his thoughts make him smile and spread warmth all over his body, all the way down to his toes.

He tells the barista, "One grande café latte and caramel macchiato. To go." When the barista asked his name, he told her, "Cas. With a single S." He pays for the overpriced coffee and shuffles out of the line. He sits on a chair while waiting for his order, then his phone chirped.

He smiles when he sees that the message was from Dean. The message says, 'wen the hell r u gonna get home get ur ass here already'.  He texts back, ‘Just a few more minutes. x’

He hears "One grande café latte and caramel macchiato to go for Cas!" He stands up and gets his orders from the barista and mutters a small 'Thanks.' He proceeds to the door where the guard opened it for him again, and to which he nodded again in gratitude. He retrieves his umbrella from the rack, opens it, and the droplets fly away onto his coat or into nonexistence. He clutches the drinks in one hand, the other hand holding the brolly aloft. He grins at the thought of seeing Dean a few minutes from now.

~~

He opens the door to their room, and is greeted by Dean sitting on the couch with the telly on, his neck craned towards him. Dean smiles goofily and walks towards him. He takes the umbrella from his hand, and whispers, "Hey baby."

"Hello, Dean," he murmurs, and leans up to kiss him on his lips. He feels Dean smile, and hears the umbrella clutter to the floor as Dean’s arms snake around his waist.

"What took you so long?" he whispers. Dean holds him tighter, pressing him flush against his chest.

"It was troublesome to walk under the rain," he replies, resting his head on the crook of the other's shoulder.

"You could have asked me to get you," Dean says, releasing him from his hold. He takes the coffees from his hand, and takes his hand with his free one.

They saunter to the kitchen, and Dean places the coffees on the counter. He presses him against the counter and wraps his arms over his waist before whispering to his ear, "I missed you, Cas."

He chuckles, and faces Dean. He places his arm on Dean's shoulders, leaning up and kissing his nose.

"And I you," he replies.

"Do you want to eat something with the coffee? We still have pie."

"Okay."

~~

They are snuggling on the sofa, empty cups and plates and crumbs and forks littering the coffee table. Their bodies drape every surface of the sofa, with Cas resting atop Dean, his head cradled against the other's chest. Dean plays with hair, shaping it into nameless forms. Once in a while, he kisses Cas's head, murmuring against it endless I love you's. Cas would then look up at him, and say the same things to him, twinkling eyes and wide smiles and all.

They spend all day like that, close to each other and doing nothing. And really, they couldn’t ask for more.

.

.

 **oak** _n._

 **Sammy:** do u want to come for dinner tomorrow jess is cooking

 **Me:** sure

~~

 **Benny:** Up for a drink at saturday night? the others are coming

 **Me:** okay

~~

 **Baby:** will stay at balthazar’s for project. don’t wait up. i love you :)

 **Me:** be careful of that smarmy bastard. ilu2 :)

~~

 **Me:** should i bring anything?

 **Sammy:** strawberries? jess has been craving.

 **Me:** okay

~~

 **Kevin:** something’s wrong with my car. it’s wheezing. :((

 **Me:** i’ll take a look at sunday afternoon. are you free then?

 **Kevin:** Yes. Thank you!

~~

 **Charlie:** I FOUND MY POKEMON RED!!!!

 **Charlie:** But all my data’s been wiped out T.T

 **Me:** i’ll play for you sometime

~~

 **Victor:** do u have notes for adler’s class? i still haven’t studied for the quiz

 **Me:** QUIZ? CRAP! i think either garth or ash has notes

~~  
**Charlie:** squirtle, charmander, or bulbasaur?

 **Me:** you tried squirtle last time, right? how about charmander?

 **Charlie:** but the first gym is rock type :(( that’s why i chose squirtle the first time

 **Me:** then choose squirtle again

~~

 **Baby:** i found acorns :3

 **Me:** acorns?

 **Baby:** anna has some. maybe we can bring them to sam’s?

 **Me:** are they even edible?

 **Baby:** yes. in a way.

 **Me:** not risking it.

~~

 **Me:** do u want some acorns?

 **Sammy:** acorns?

 **Me:** cas has some.

 **Sammy:** ha. maybe we can experiment a bit. find some squirrels to feed.

~~

 **Charlie:** kevin says he’ll come on saturday

 **Me:** yeah

 **Charlie:** we can play pokemon then!

 **Me:** good

 **Charlie:** r u busy

 **Me:** what

 **Charlie:** you don’t seem inclined to txt rn

 **Me:** they’re going nuts for squirrels!

 **Charlie:** what? who?

 **Me:** them! sam, jess, cas! frigging squirrels.

 **Charlie:** awww :”)) i’ll leave you to ogle at cas :))

 **Me:** am not!

 **Me:** maybe.

 **Me:** just a bit.

.

.

 **phone box** _n._

“What’s this?” Dean asked when he saw the bowl on their kitchen table.

“Fish fingers and custard,” Cas answered, “I was thinking of eating that for our marathon.”

“Fish fingers? You’ve been spending too much time with Balthazar,” Dean said, and grabbed a piece of fish finger from the bowl.

“How is it?” Cas asked.

“What the fuck,” he said, and scowled. “Where did you get this idea? This is horrible.”

“I actually like it. It’s from the show we’re watching.”

“What is it?”

“Do you want to guess? The fish fingers and custard are big clues already.”

“Beats me.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “It’s really popular. Sam and Charlie watch it. Even Jo and Ash, I think. And Kevin.”

“I don’t know,” Dean said, and added in a sultry tone with matching playful eyes and fingers on Cas’s belt hoops, “Why don’t you tell me?”

Cas lets Dean pull him closer. “It has a time-travelling telephone box.”

“I think I know it,” Dean said in a low voice, “Is it bigger on the inside?”

“Yes.”

“Then can we do this—” a kiss on the lips, “And this—” a nibble on the bottom lip, “And this—” a tongue snaking inside, “Inside that cramped space?”

“It’s not a snog box,” Cas said, “But I suppose we can.”

~~

And they found themselves tangled in sheets later, fish finger and custard and Doctor Who DVDs forgotten.

.

.

 **quid pro quo** _n._

Valentine’s Day is one of the peak seasons, and The Roadhouse is usually full every February 14th, and the whole crew has been working nonstop.

They all have experiences of working on a peak season, and are all well aware of the exhaustion they’re bound to experience, but Charlie’s repressed gloominess is affecting Dean. She smiles around the customers, but when she’s not, her face just falls. She’s constantly checking her phone and sighs every now and then.

“56,” Dean says as he fixes someone’s order.

“What?” Charlie asks as she arranges brownies on a plate.

“You’ve been sighing for 56 times already,” Dean answers, “Trouble with Gilda?”

Charlie doesn’t ask why Dean’s been keeping count, but her shoulders slump, but she immediately straightens up when she called a customer’s orders. She’s fixing another order as she answers Dean, who’s also fixing another order.

“We might have to cancel our reservation tonight,” she says sombrely, “She’s really busy with her paper. I can understand that she’s busy with her acads—even I am busy with my acads, but we haven’t been on a date for weeks, and I was hoping that today would be an exception. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be bothering you with my problems.”

Dean pats her shoulder. “Been there, done that. But the fourteenth’s just another consumerist day. You can reschedule your date.”

“I know, but it still saddens me,” she says, and she checks her phone, only to shove it back inside her apron quickly, “What about you? What are you doing with Cas?”

“Pizza and marathon,” he replies, and says in a low voice so the customers wouldn’t hear, “And making out on the couch. And more, hopefully.”

Charlie smiles, though Dean’s sure it’s a forced smile. “Are you giving him something?”

Dean rubs his neck, and a faint blush spreads on his cheeks. “Yeah, but it’s… What are you giving Gilda?”

Charlie narrows her eyes at him for the obvious subject change, but answers him nonetheless. “Just a wristwatch.”

The customers have died down at bit—just a teensy little bit—so he kisses her forehead and says, “It’s gonna be okay, my Queen.”

Charlie smiles. This time, it’s real. “Damn right, handmaiden!”

~~

“Open it,” Cas says.

“No, you open yours first,” Dean argues.

 They just finished the whole box of pizza, and the telly and DVD player just rested after five hours of continuously operating. They handed each other their gifts, which is, okay, totally consumerist, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong about giving your partner a gift at Valentines’s, right?

“Go first,” Dean urges him with a grin.

Cas eyes him warily, but opens his gift regardless. It’s a black zip-up hoodie with angel wings protruding from the back. He looks at Dean—who’s still grinning—and wears the jacket.

“You look good, Angel,” Dean says, and snaps a photo of ‘winged’ Cas looking clueless.

“If you have a fetish, Dean, just tell me,” Cas says.

Dean laughs. “We’ve carried out each other’s fetishes already. This just reminded me of you, wings and angels and all.”

Cas rolls his eyes, then leans forward to kiss Dean. He slumps on him so that Dean’s laying on the floor, and he’s laying on top of him.

“Thank you,” he says with a small smile, “Now open yours.”

“How can I open it if I’ve got an angel on top of me?”

Cas extricates himself from him and sits in front of Dean instead. Dean examines Cas’s gift for him, then opens it carefully.

Dean’s whole face lights up and he surges forward and kisses Cas hot and messy. When they’re both panting for breath, Dean thanks him by kissing his face all over, fingers playing at the hem of his shirt.

“I presume that you liked it?” Cas asks breathlessly.

Dean sucks that spot on Cas’s throat before answering. “Tickets to a Black Sabbath concert? Fuck yes.”

“Can we proceed now?”

Dean grins, and begins divesting Cas of the winged jacket he gave him.

.

.

 **rouse** _v._

This is a bad idea.

A _very_ bad idea.

But it’s dark and no one can see them, so why not? It’s not as if everyone in the movie house could see them.

But okay, he’ll have to admit it—public sex is kind of hot.

Cas thumbs the slit of his cock slowly, then suddenly stops.

He’s about to protest when Cas climbs atop him and pulls his fly down. His equally hard erection springs out, and he takes their lengths in one hand. Cas covers his mouth with his own, tongue teasing his tongue, swallowing his moans, while his hand slides up and down their cocks. He disconnects their lips and slides his hand faster and faster and Cas had to silence him again with his tongue, lest the whole theatre hears him moaning through his orgasm.

Cas returns to his seat and cleans them up with a tissue that came with the bucket of popcorn which lay forgotten somewhere. Cas leans towards him and whispers to his ear, “Let’s go to your car. Now.” He sucks his earlobe, and his hand reaches his flaccid cock, and blood rushes to his dick once more.

 _Screw this. This is a very good idea_.

.

.

 **selfie** _n._

“Stop wearing my hoodies, Cas.”

“I love your hoodies. You love it when I wear your clothes.”

“Yes, I think you’re absolutely irresistible in my clothes, but I’ll run out of hoodies to wear. Yours are a tad smaller.”

“Ask Sam for some of his.”

“I’m not wearing my little brother’s old clothes!”

But Cas ignores him, and proceeds to the door wearing Dean’s hoodie.

“I’ll see you later,” Cas says and kisses Dean.

“Take care,” Dean says.

~~

Cas comes home around 8pm, and sees Dean with a plethora of paper in the kitchen.

“Welcome back,” Dean greets him, and tugs Cas gently by the strings attached to the hood of his jacket to give him a quick kiss.

Cas places two bags on the table. “I brought some Chinese,” he says as he gets out the takeaway from its container and hands one to Dean.

“What’s on the other bag?” Dean asks as he searches for the chopsticks in the bag.

Cas gets something out of the other bag, and holds out a dark green hoodie. “I bought this for you. So I can wear it.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You bastard.”

“You love me anyway,” Cas says, and he climbs onto Dean’s lap, effectively straddling him.

“Babe,” Dean says, “I’m trying to finish my homework here.”

Cas takes his phone out of his pocket, puts his right arm over Dean’s right shoulder, his left hand resting on Dean’s left shoulder, and _snap!_

“Did you just take a photo?” Dean asks

Cas shows him the photo he took—a photo of himself smiling smugly, with Dean’s back head visible from the left side. “We don’t have enough photos together.” He climbs out of Dean’s lap, drags his chair to his side, and plops down on it. He looks up at Dean expectantly.

“What?”

“I want another photo of us together. As much as I love your sleeping face, I think I need a new wallpaper. Please?”

Dean thinks that Cas got puppy dog eyes lesson from Sam, because he can’t say no to that look on Cas’s face.

“Just one, okay? Just. One.”

Cas smiles at him. He leans onto Dean’s side and holds out his phone. Dean squints at the phone first, then smiles. Cas presses the shutter button.

It was just a simple photo of the two of them smiling. Cas sets it as his wallpaper immediately, and Dean grabs Cas’s photo from his hands.

“Hey!” Cas says.

Deans opens the camera app and holds the phone aloft. He kisses Cas on the lips, and after a second, clicks the shutter button _._

“I thought just one?” Cas asks.

“I want a photo of us kissing.”

“I want _another_ photo of us kissing.”

“Okay,” Dean says, and they kiss once more for the camera to capture this moment between them.

.

.

 **torrent** _n._

They would have taken the car, but it was raining so hard and the wind was blowing fast and fucking _howling_ that they had no choice but to leave Baby at Bobby’s and return for her when the weather has cleared up. He couldn’t risk damaging her.

They ended up taking the train, which is thankfully, not crowded with passengers. Considering the inclement weather, most must have stayed home or waited till the rain let up, but Dean and Cas needed to back as soon as possible for quizzes the following day.

They both sat down, and Cas laid his head on Dean’s shoulder, because it has been a really tiring day and he’s eager to get some shuteye. Dean wraps an arm around his waist, while his free hand texts Sam, telling him that yes, they’re okay, and yes, they’ll be back tomorrow.

Across them, an old man gives them a stink eye, but Dean ignores him by kissing the top of Cas’s head (which is covered by his jacket’s hood). Cas stirs and snuggles closer to him. The man across them snorts loudly and transfers to another seat, and even though Dean is still pissed for leaving his Baby behind, his other baby is right beside him, and that makes everything okay.

.

.

 **ukulele** _n._

Dean woke up to a message which says:

_You make me happy whether you know it or not_

_We should be happy that’s what I said from the start_

_I am so happy knowing you are the one that I want for the rest of my days_

_For the rest of my days_

_Just heading out. I love you :)_

_-C_

Huh. If he’s not mistaken, Jo was singing this song yesterday.

He’ll have to talk to Jo about influencing Cas with her music tastes. Sure, they both listen to classic rock and he loves her, but this modern shit? He’d rather not deal with it. Especially after that last time he sang to Cas.

So texts him and says:

_Stop talking to Jo._

.

.

 **virginity** _n._ (p)

“The backseat of my Impala. You?”

“Your bed.”

Dean gives him a questioning look.

And Cas pushes him onto the mattress.

.

.

 **warhorse** _n._

For Thanksgiving, Sam took Jess home, and of course, Dean took Cas. This would be the second time that Jess and Cas will meet The Parents, but the usual apprehension never really went away, especially for Cas.

John didn’t talk much, but Cas knew that he hadn’t fully accepted the idea of his eldest son being in a relationship with a man, judging from his face every time he looks at him. Dean explained to him this thing called ‘bisexuality’, but as of today, John still remains wary of his son’s life choices.

He cringed when he saw his son lead his… friend to his bedroom. Mary patted his shoulder, and John just shook his head.

Mary is a very understanding woman who fully accepted things as they are. There was no judgment from her, only love and understanding. He talked to John about it, but her husband remains unwillingly tolerant.

John doesn’t fully agree to his son’s sexuality, but he keeps his mouth shut. He sees Dean extremely happy, happier than when he was with Cassie or Lisa, so he just shrugs and goes on with his life.

~~

It was already 01:19am. He can’t sleep, and his restlessness brought him downstairs. He was planning to have a cup of coffee, but he sees the telly still on, and two figures were slumped on the couch. They were sitting so close that bleary eyes would have perceived them to be a single entity sitting on a sofa.

They were chuckling lightly and talking in hushed voices, but he can faintly make out an exchange of I love you’s. He sees the figures meld by the lips, and they laugh softly afterwards.

He recognises his son’s silhouette laying his head on Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel lays his head atop Dean’s head, and he hears a susurrous of voices. He feels like he’s intruding on a private moment, and quickly heads upstairs.

~~

The next evening, after the Thanksgiving dinner was held, and he surreptitiously watches his son move around Castiel. They were eating leftover pie from the dinner, and he sees Castiel cut a portion of his pie with a fork, and he holds it aloft for Dean to eat. He watches Castiel feed his son, and he watches his son feed Castiel, or brush the crumbs away from the other’s lips with his thumb or own lips.

He turns away.

~~

He sees his son take Castiel’s face in his hands and kiss him deep. He rests their foreheads together, and he hears the both of them declare their for each other, and even though he still hasn’t fully accepted things, that was the moment he knew just how deeply in love his son was with this guy.

Dean was even letting Castiel drive the Impala for fuck’s sake.

But that was only to take the car out of the driveway. He sees them get out of the car and change seats, but not without Dean trapping Castiel between him and the car. And kissing him and hearing all those noises—

—that’s something he doesn’t need to know.

.

.

 **x-factor** _n_. (p)

“What do you like about him?” Jo asks as he cleans the countertop.

“I don’t know,” Dean mumbles, “Everything, I guess.”

.

.

 **year dot** _n._

 **Me:** don’t forget the pie

 **Baby:** since when did i forget the pie

 **Me:** :))

 **Me:** apple pie, if there’s one.

 **Baby:** you need to lessen the amount of pie you consume in a week.

 **Me:** no can do. the love for pie is embedded in my cells.

 **Me:** so is my love for you :))))

 **Baby:** stop drinking.

.

.

 **zilch** _n._

It’s this kind of moment when he’s ghosting his lips over his, over his face, over every inch of his body, that he knows that he’s the one.

It’s this kind of moment when he’s thrusting inside him, their hands clamped tight together, that he knows that he doesn’t want to be with anybody else.

It’s this kind of moment when he’s staring at his eyes and getting lost in them forever that he knows that he’ll never get tired of looking at that face.

It’s this kind of moment when he’s laying beside him, all sweaty and spent and content and glowing, that he knows that he’ll never engage in sexual acts with anyone again besides him.

It’s this kind of moment when they’re lying together, breaths in synchrony, arms draped all over each other, that he realises that needs him with every fibre of his being, and that he will never love someone as deeply as he loves him.

It’s this kind of moment when he realises that no force of the universe will separate them, because they’re tangled with the red string of fate, because they’ll always find each other no matter what, because they’re two halves of a whole no one is allowed to break.

It’s this kind of moment when he’s thankful that this is the life that he lives, not the life of the Dean Winchester in his dreams who keeps on slaying monsters and demons.

It’s this kind of moment when—

_SLAM!_

“Dean!”

“Sammy?”

Sam stands by the door of his and Cas’s bedroom, breathing hard and sporting bruises and torn plaid shirt.

“Dean,” Sam says, “Thank god you’re still alive.”

“…What?”

“The djinn. I thought he got you. C’mon, let’s go. We need to go or you’ll die.”

“Sam, what are you saying? You’re not making any sense.”

“Have you honestly forgotten? You’re living in a dream world created by a djinn! If you don’t wake up soon, you’ll die in the real world!”

“Real world?”

“This is a dream world, Dean! This is not the real world! That is not the real Cas! You need to wake up!”

“Stop fucking with me, Sam! This isn’t funny. This is not a good prank.”

Sam takes a deep breath. “Our parents are long gone. Jess is dead. Kevin’s dead. So are Bobby and Ellen and Jo and Ash and Kevin and Victor. Benny is at Purgatory. Charlie went to Oz. This not the real world, Dean! A djinn has got you! You have to wake up! Don’t tell me that you’re not having those dreams!”

Dean looks narrows his eyes at him. “Why do you know about the dreams?”

“Because I’ve been dreaming them too. I thought that they were all real until Cas appeared to me. The real Cas. Not that one beside you.”

Dean looked at the Cas sleeping beside him, then at his brother. “If what you’re saying is real—”

_Whoosh!_

“What Sam says is the truth, Dean,” Castiel, who just appeared out of thin air, says, “That body beside you is not real.”

Castiel walks up to him and places two fingers on his forehead, and it’s all coming back to him now—the missing persons, the motel at Nebraska, the chase, the painful sensation at his neck… He remembers them all.

“I have already slain the djinn,” Castiel says, “We should get back to the ‘real world’ before Dean loses his life.”

Castiel places two fingers on each of their forehead, and after a moment, they were in an abandoned warehouse at Nebraska.

Dean is tied to a chair, so Sam unties. He looks at the two of them with utter shock written on his face. Sam hands him a bottle of water which he sucks greedily.

He looks back and forth between Sam and Cas. Sam pointedly clears his throat. “I’ll talk to up later, Dean,” he says, and walks away.

 “I went to Sam first because I didn’t want to shock you with another me.”

“What—” Dean croaks. His throat hurts like hell so he chugs more water. “What you saw there, Cas it’s—” Dean looks away at him and drinks more water. The he says under his breath, “I guess the reason why I haven’t realised it after so long is that I liked what happened there too much. Everyone was just happy and fine and _perfect_.”

“…So what you were doing with your dream world me,” Cas says, looking everywhere but Dean, “It’s—”

“Come here,” Dean says.

Cas cants his head.

“Come here,” Dean repeats.

The angel walks toward him, and rushes when Dean tries to stand but stumbles. He helps him get steady, and when he was standing without his legs giving up, Dean cups his face and looks him straight in the eyes. There’s a small smile on his lips, and his eyes are alit. He mumbles, “It was perfect, Cas. My parents are… My parents are alive, Sam’s on his way to becoming a lawyer… I think it’s what my subconscious would have wanted. But that could never happen here. They—The others won’t come back. Bobby, Jo, Ellen, Kevin… But this… this thing between us? It’s… It’s real, isn’t it?”

Cas smiles. “If you would like it to be.”

 

**_fin_ **

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** Hurray for rushed endings :B
> 
> I profusely apologise for this fic. This is, in all sense, an atrocity my addled brain told me to write in the wee hours of the morning, but as grotesque as it is, I deeply love this fanfic I’ve written. And my tenses! I keep messing up tenses. Sorry.
> 
> The songs presented/mentioned in this fic are:  
>  _[All My Heart](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DjmeXYFw2Pw)_ by Sleeping with Sirens  
>  _[Scene One: James Dean& Audrey Hepburn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=71SvPulAyZI)_ by Sleeping with Sirens  
>  _[Hey Jude](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A_MjCqQoLLA)_ by The Beatles  
>  _Happy_ by NeverShoutNever (I can't find an official video, but if you're interested in listening to this, YouTube and Google are your friends c:)
> 
> Dean’s comments on these bands don’t necessarily reflect my opinion. I love these bands. OuO
> 
> I also never tasted fish fingers and custard. I did a quick Google to see how it tastes, and some don’t like it, but others do.  
> Please leave a review if you have time. Thank you!


End file.
